


Queen with bruised knuckles

by gremlinloquacious



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gremlinloquacious/pseuds/gremlinloquacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Ma Junior waits for his chance to destroy Son - he gets a little distracted by someone who wants Son for a very different reason. But then what sort of Demon would he be if he didn't seize the chance to start the chaos early?<br/>_also on FF.net_</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen with bruised knuckles

**Author's Note:**

> I started this after reading both Dragonball's 23rd Boudakai arc and pretty much every Piccolo/Chichi fanfic on the internet. I was just in the mood for some shippy angst, and then 3 days later - here's the finished result.
> 
> I ship pretty much every DBZ character with every DBZ character. But I have a big soft spot for this pairing. It's not romantic but the two have chemistry and a burning rom-com hatred for each other. So...yeah.  
> Any comments/constructive criticism/ reviews are gladly welcome.
> 
> This is set at the end of Dragonball just before Piccolo and Goku's big fight.

I want to hold you close  
Soft breath, beating heart  
As I whisper in your ear  
I want to fucking tear you apart  
-She Wants Revenge

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was trying very hard not to get disqualified before the tournament even began.  
But she was refusing to be ignored.  
Youcantkillheryetyoucantkill heryet.  
He'd been busy studying his opponent. Watching and planning. Searching for weaknesses in the formidable armour of Son Goku –the person around whom the hellish 3 years of his life had revolved around destroying. He was here to earn his birthright. Raze and conquer. Destroy Son Goku.  
He had a talent for destruction.  
Destroying a man and killing him were, as the hushed and dark voice in the back of his head often told him, quite, quite different.

He was trying to concentrate on how to tear this man apart. Piece by piece.  
And here was this tiny little creature. This woman. Eyes full of fire and hope and something else he didn't quite understand.  
She was standing next to him, watching him watching.  
This dark little female glaring up at him; challenging. Who on earth was she? Regal and rough all at once.  
A queen with bruised knuckles.

Just as he was about to bare his fangs, growl at her, scare the foolish girl away she pounced. Announced who she was and why she was there. Chest puffed out, hands on hips – marking her territory. She'd spotted him (not a surprise he thought. He was not particularly easy to miss) and made a b-line to the wiry, malevolent youth lurking in the shadows of the preliminaries the moment she's figured out who his icy gaze had been directed towards.

He had been leaning against the wall, watching the preliminary fights wind down when all at once this blazing presence was at his side – weighing him up. Quietly calculating. If she was afraid it didn't show.  
"I see who you're looking at."  
He said nothing. Who was this little creature to dare talk to him?  
She regarded him further, "you're demon-folk aren't you?"  
He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. She had a pale heart shaped face.  
The girl smirked, "thought so."  
He turned away again, but she continued. "You've been watching him ever since he arrived," she stated matter-of-factly; an odd emphasis on him, as the steely tone of her voice softened at the word.  
"So have you."  
She seemed shocked at his gruff reply. A flush of red passed over her cheeks momentarily before her smirk widened. "Hmmpf. Well I have a perfectly good reason to be watching him."  
Ma Junior rolled his eyes and moved to walk away. He didn't want a conversation. He didn't have conversations. The girl, however, was persistent and moved around to block his path, ignoring his low growl at her impertinence. He could so easily break her in ha-  
"Don't think I don't see the way you're looking at him."  
"…What?"  
"You heard me."  
He was trying to process her meaning when she moved in close and prodded him in the chest with a tiny forefinger, "you look at him like a man starved – and he's a bowl of rice."

She had yet to move her finger from his chest. Oh she was dead. Could he do it here? Risk getting disqualified? Cause a panic, throw the plan off kilter. No. He had to keep his cool. Kill her later.  
First Son. Then her. This No. 58.  
The girl's face contorted into something akin to a snarl as she glared up at him. Eyes on fire. "Son Goku is off limits – hear me? I don't know what your deal is, but he's mine."  
There was an odd void-like silence broken only by his laughter. A Hollow, cracked and mirthless noise that tore itself from the back of his throat.  
"Little one… you have no idea."  
She flushed again, angry and more than a little intimidated by the tall demon who seemed to be mocking her. "I mean it," she snarled, "you keep your hands off my fiancé."  
The laughter stopped as suddenly as it started. Dark blue eyes focused on her face.  
Oh that did it. That caught his attention.  
He regarded her in a slightly new light now. He hadn't known that Son had a female. He could…use this. He knew that humans made these silly bonds, got attached to one another. Fiancé. That was an important one, wasn't it? That meant that Son and the woman were bonded… he was (obviously) important to her, and she him.  
Attachment…sentiment… a weakness he could definitely use. Perhaps he'd found the weak link in Son's impenetrable armour.

"You're Son's woman?"  
She blushed again, deeper than before. Avoided his gaze. "Yes…sort of."  
He took a step towards her, she a step back. "Sort of?"  
"Well.. I …he didn't really…" She trailed off. Ma Junior narrowed his eyes at her and she seemed flustered. "He… he promised to marry me years ago when we were younger…so yes! Yes I am!"  
She folded her arms against her chest.  
Her expression faltered as his changed from mildly intrigued to downright malicious. A sneer curled at one side of his mouth. Those eyes of his, those painfully hungry and angry eyes glowing with a strange sort of menace. His gaze shifted from her red flushed face to Son, as if considering something.  
He'd considered claiming something of his foe's, after the last blow was struck – a trophy, a symbolic gesture, as Son lay dying. Watching as his precious world burned, as his loved ones perished. Tear out his heart and eat it in front of him. Something old-school.  
This odd little creature had fallen straight into his lap – the enemy's woman? Oh, what sort of villain would he be if he didn't use this to his full advantage.  
He could kill her in front of him… maim or torture her (although he doubted he could stand the screeching the woman would more than likely emit)… announce less than noble intentions as the man slipped away to the other world.  
Not that there would be any truth in it though (he wasn't particularly interested in that anyway, it confused him more than anything). Or maybe something small… something that was just… just enough. One small action to shake foundations. A crack in the dam wall.  
"Years ago? Tell me girl, does he even remember you?" he nodded towards the fighter laughing with his companions, "he doesn't seem to be paying you any heed", Ma Junior taunted. She blanched.  
He moved forward again, and she backed further away; he ushered her, unknowing, towards a more secluded alcove.

"Of course he does! Or.. he will…"  
He laughed again, "An odd thing to call yourself then, his fiancé, if he doesn't even know you!"  
She didn't know what to say to that.  
He continued, the spark of his father in him revelling at the beginnings of doubt he could see in her eyes.  
"How long have you waited for him then? How long have you waited for him to marry you? Come to you….remember your name?" Ma Junior sneered, looming over her with a cruel grin, "I bet you waited for him too, kept your legs crossed for the hope of a white wedding. Do you think he waited for you too? I bet you do, don't yo—"  
He caught her hand, mid-punch aimed at his face. Fury he'd seldom seen beyond his own reflection blazing in her eyes like hot coals. She let out a small growl and attempted to yank her arm from his grasp.  
She swung her free arm at him – a move he deftly countered, using her momentum to pull her further into the shadows of the alcove out of the view of others. In a moment she was pinned against the wall, feet dangling as he held her up. Before she could scream he moved in close against her, face almost touching hers as he growled in her ear.  
"Did I hit a sore spot? Am I shattering the fantasy?"  
His voice was barely above a whisper. She didn't move; struggle as he'd expected her to.  
"I'll scream."  
"I doubt he'd come running."  
She met his eyes. "I don't need him to. But I know he would." He said nothing, but considered the woman's words. She still had faith in Son…  
Strange how quickly her demeanour had change, how calm she was, pinned against a dark wall by a demon. How regal she seemed, chin high.  
"I don't know who he is to you, but there's nothing you can say to change what he is to me."  
Ma Junior reached behind her head and grabbed her ponytail. Thick black hair soft to his hands. He pulled it back, forcing her head to tilt upwards. Her lips parted in worry.  
The maelstrom raging in his head (always, always noise and thunder and revenge) stilled for one glorious moment.

"Good girl." He smiled, voice venomous. "You go. Go and get your prince charming. And you let him know that I can take anything of his I want. This world. The blood from his veins. Everything. There'll be no happily ever after. Only me."  
It took only a second to steel his resolve, to commit to the act. He wanted Son to know, to know that everything was at his mercy, it was all subject to his whim and fancy. If he wanted to burn the arena down... If he wanted to win the tournament and continue his sire's great work ... If he wanted to take her first kiss away from her, the one she'd saved especially for Son – he would.  
So he kissed her.  
Pulled her head back by her ponytail, his bodyweight crushing her to the wall, ignoring the gasp of surprise. Vicious and brutal in his method he claimed her mouth with his; lack of experience second to his anger. His need to destroy. She struggled back against him to try and push him off but he held fast, one hand clutching at her thigh to keep her in place. As he kissed her, he was vaguely aware that she had opened her mouth, and the hands that had been trying to force his shoulders back were now grasping at the white cloth. A frown was still etched on her face and the fire in her eyes was still ablaze. She was softer than he'd expected. Hell, he didn't know what he was expecting. The theory was different in practice. The girl's breath was sweet, as was the taste of her and when he bit down on her bottom lip the shocked noise she made was sweeter still. The experience was both numbing and exhilarating at once; strangely liberating. He pulled away for a moment, leaving her mouth cold and seeking, pink lips much much pinker than before. The girl's expression unreadable; he pulled the ribbon from her hair which fell free and silken around her face. Before he knew I he was kissing her again, bruising and unforgiving. Almost to be mistaken for passionate.

One of the girl's hands was at his cheek now soft against his jaw; his eyes flicking briefly closed as he realised that this was the first time anyone had ever touched his face. The reverie was lost as he felt the sharp sting of her nails dig into his neck and jaw, drawing blood. He snarled and grabbed her wrist, trapping it against the wall, using his own claws on her thigh. Revelled in the whimper of pain that escaped from her open lips and used the moment in a way that surprised even himself; he forced his tongue into her mouth. It was a strangely intimate act that he didn't quite understand but the girl… Oh this scowling Empress responded instantaneously. Like a violent chemical reaction, pushing her own tongue back against his, into his own mouth, curling up against sharp canines.  
She arched her body and pushed back against him, but didn't seem to try and wrest her arm free. He could feel just how fast her heart was beating against his chest, warm and alive against him; an unfamiliar burning rising at the base of his throat.  
Ma Junior broke off the kiss as suddenly as he'd started it, but regarded her face. Angry and upset and… and something else. Confusion?  
"Put. Me. Down."

And he so he dropped her. The girl landed in a crumpled heap on the cold tiled floor, catching her breath. His own chest rising and falling a little too fast for his liking.  
The tiny woman glared up at him with those Queen's eyes of hers, wiping her own blood off her lips – cut by cruel dogteeth. Her precious first kiss torn from her. Stolen. And not even to spite her.  
"You're a monster."  
"I know." Came the reply, quiet.  
And with that, the girl rose to her feet defiantly, dusting off her gi with the sound of the announcer in the air, calling competitors to the ringside. Struggling with the odd feeling in her stomach as she stared her enemy down.  
Walking past him, Chichi left him with a parting shot.  
"Good luck. If you get to fight him – you'll need it."

Ma Junior wiped the blood she had drawn from his cheek with the back of his hand, watching her leave. He quietly wondered why he didn't feel more victorious.


End file.
